Gospel Story Finder

Keeping the commandments. Our family’s income dropped considerably during the divorce process, and we struggled financially. I faced the dilemma of whether to pay tithing when there clearly was not enough money to feed and care for my large family and to make the essential house repairs. I sought counsel from my priesthood leaders and knew my answer. I decided I would pay a full tithing. I believe this single act of faith opened the windows of heaven, for many blessings were showered on our family. While I was deeply grateful for help from others, I also found myself struggling to develop humility and graciousness, as my family had never before required help. My first trip to the bishops’ storehouse resulted in tears, but I sought from the Lord what He would have me learn from the experience. Besides struggling with pride, I learned much about love and the purpose for the welfare program. Although we no longer need welfare assistance, I am grateful for that experience.

I also prayed to know the truth when I finished reading the Book of Mormon. However, I didn’t receive an answer the first time I asked. After nearly a week of frustrated, tearful prayer, I watched The Testaments of One Fold and One Shepherd. As I watched the movie, I felt a burning in my heart, and I knew that now was the time to ask. I got down on my knees and asked in full faith and with an open heart if the Book of Mormon was true. I knew that if I received an answer, I would act upon it, regardless of the consequences. The answer I got was so powerful that I continue to feel it every day.

When I was a young boy, my greatest desire was to play basketball. Fortunately I had a father who was anxious to see that his son’s desire was met. Dad and I would practice the basics of passing and dribbling the basketball hour after hour in our small kitchen. I would listen to college basketball games on the radio and dream of playing college ball someday. Serving a mission was far from my mind at that time; consequently, I spent very little effort in missionary preparation. In an attempt to ensure some balance in my life, my dad—who had not held a Church calling in many years—accepted the call to serve as my Scoutmaster. He operated by the book, and due to his diligence some of my friends and I became Eagle Scouts. I realize now that Scouting is great preparation for a mission.

As an Aaronic Priesthood young man, I can remember the excitement I felt as a newly ordained deacon. I looked forward to being able to fulfill my priesthood assignments. As a young Primary boy, I watched the deacons in my ward very closely in anticipation of the day I would be 12 years old, receive the priesthood, and be able to pass the sacrament. That day finally arrived, and soon after being ordained by my father, who was the bishop of the ward, I felt ready, but nervous, to begin my duties as a new deacon.
I now belonged to a quorum of the Aaronic Priesthood. The members of my quorum became very best friends. That friendship and quorum brotherhood continued to grow through my youth as we learned and served together in our priesthood duties. We were all good friends and experienced a fun and enjoyable time being together in our quorum activities.
One Sunday following one of those warm and long sacrament meetings, the first counselor in our bishopric called me aside to talk to me. This unscheduled priesthood interview became a blessing in my life as I have pondered the question he asked during our brief but significant visit. Brother Bateman looked me in the eye and asked, “Dean, do you know who you are?” There was complete silence, and then he gave me a quick and powerful reminder, “You are the son of Reid Burgess.”
The meaning and significance of that question has burned in my heart for a long time, and I often reflected on it throughout my teenage years. This good brother’s question—“Do you know who you are?”—has given me inspired direction throughout my life and a commitment to bring respect and honor to my family and to the priesthood.

We have seen the manifestation of the Savior’s power in a widow who lost her husband while they were on the Lord’s errand in Bolivia. We have seen it in a young woman in Argentina who fell under a train and lost her leg, just because someone wanted to steal her cell phone. And in her single father, who now must pick up the pieces and strengthen his daughter after such an unexplainable act of cruelty. We have seen it in the families that lost their homes and every possession during fires in Chile just two days before Christmas in 2022. We have seen it in those who suffer after a traumatic divorce and in those who are innocent victims of abuse.
This is the kind of faith we saw when we visited the families after the fires in Chile. Their houses had been burned to the ground; they had lost everything. Yet as we were walking in what used to be their homes and they were telling us about their experiences, we felt that we were standing on holy ground. One sister said to my wife, “When I saw that nearby houses were burning, I had the impression that our house was going to be burned, that we were going to lose everything. Instead of desperation, I experienced a sense of indescribable peace. Somehow, I felt everything was going to be OK.” Trusting God and keeping our covenants with Him bring power to our weakness and comfort to our grief.

President Harold B. Lee relates this incident from Church history:
“The story is told in the early days of the Church—particularly, I think, at Kirtland, Ohio—where some of the leading brethren in the presiding councils of the Church met secretly and tried to scheme as to how they could get rid of the Prophet Joseph’s leadership. They made the mistake of inviting Brigham Young to one of these secret meetings. He rebuked them, after he had heard the purpose of their meeting. This is part of what he said: ‘You cannot destroy the appointment of a prophet of God, but you can cut the thread that binds you to the prophet of God, and sink yourselves to hell.’” (Conference Report, April 1963, p. 81.)

“I want to speak about the dead.”
Thousands of Latter-day Saints hushed as Lucy Mack Smith’s voice echoed through the large assembly hall on the first floor of the nearly completed Nauvoo temple.
It was the morning of October 8, 1845, the third and final day of the fall conference of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Knowing she would not have many more opportunities to speak to the Saints—especially now that they planned to leave Nauvoo for a new home far to the west—Lucy spoke with a power beyond her feeble seventy-year-old body.
“It was eighteen years ago last twenty-second of September that Joseph took the plates out of the earth,” she testified, “and it was eighteen years last Monday since Joseph Smith, the prophet of the Lord—”1
She paused, remembering Joseph, her martyred son. The Saints in the room already knew how an angel of the Lord had led him to a set of gold plates buried in a hill called Cumorah. They knew that Joseph had translated the plates by the gift and power of God and published the record as the Book of Mormon. Yet how many Saints in the assembly hall had truly known him?
Lucy could still remember when Joseph, then only twenty-one years old, had first told her that God had entrusted him with the plates. She had been anxious all morning, afraid he would return from the hill empty-handed, as he had the four previous years. But when he arrived, he had quickly calmed her nerves. “Do not be uneasy,” he had said. “All is right.” He had then handed her the interpreters the Lord had provided for the translation of the plates, wrapped in a handkerchief, as proof that he had succeeded in getting the record.
There had been only a handful of believers then, most of them members of the Smith family. Now more than eleven thousand Saints from North America and Europe lived in Nauvoo, Illinois, where the Church had gathered for the last six years. Some of them were new to the Church and had not had a chance to meet Joseph or his brother Hyrum before a mob shot and killed the two men in June 1844.2 That was why Lucy wanted to speak about the dead. She wanted to testify of Joseph’s prophetic call and her family’s role in the Restoration of the gospel before the Saints moved away.
Lucy knew the Saints would help her make this journey if she chose to go. Revelations had commanded the Saints to gather together in one place, and the Twelve were determined to carry out the Lord’s will. But Lucy was old and believed she would not live much longer. When she died, she wanted to be buried in Nauvoo near Joseph, Hyrum, and other family members who had passed on, including her husband, Joseph Smith Sr.
Furthermore, most of her living family members were staying in Nauvoo. Her only surviving son, William, had been a member of the Quorum of the Twelve, but he had rejected their leadership and refused to go west. Her three daughters—Sophronia, Katharine, and Lucy—were also staying behind. So too was her daughter-in-law Emma, the prophet’s widow.
As Lucy spoke to the congregation, she urged her listeners not to fret about the journey ahead. “Do not be discouraged and say that you can’t get wagons and things,” she said. Despite poverty and persecution, her own family had fulfilled the Lord’s commandment to publish the Book of Mormon. She encouraged them to listen to their leaders and treat each other well.
“As Brigham says, you must be all honest or you will not get there,” she said. “If you feel cross, you will have trouble.”
Lucy spoke more about her family, the terrible persecution they had suffered in Missouri and Illinois, and the trials that lay ahead for the Saints. “I pray that the Lord may bless the heads of the Church, Brother Brigham and all,” she said. “When I go to another world, I want to meet you all.”6

From a young age, I was always captivated by the enthusiasm of the missionaries. During one sacrament meeting in my small branch in Minas, Uruguay, a missionary bore his testimony and expressed his feelings about his mission. His words stayed in my mind and my heart.
“One day,” I said to myself, “I will serve a mission.”
Sometime later, as a priest, I had the opportunity to accompany the missionaries on lessons. It was an unforgettable experience to be a missionary at 16 years old!
When I turned 18, several young people from my branch returned from their missions, including my sister Ana, who had returned from a mission in Argentina. Their experiences and testimonies also touched my heart.
As my 19th birthday approached, I wanted to give my name to go forth and proclaim the Savior’s gospel and serve in His vineyard (see Doctrine and Covenants 75:2). I prepared and sent in my mission papers. When my call arrived, I opened the letter signed by President Spencer W. Kimball and read that I would serve in the Uruguay/Paraguay Mission. I was going to serve in my own country! I was happy for the chance to proclaim “glad tidings of great joy, even the everlasting gospel” (Doctrine and Covenants 79:1).
I arrived at the mission office after traveling two hours by bus to Montevideo, Uruguay. The mission president set me apart as a missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and assigned me a companion. By that afternoon, we began knocking on doors.
In the beginning, there were times when the mission wasn’t as exciting as I had imagined it would be. Thankfully, I had an obedient and hardworking companion who helped me discover the joy of losing myself in the Lord’s service. His example blessed me throughout my entire mission.
But my preparation to be a representative of the Savior Jesus Christ had begun long before.
In January 1962, when I was six years old, missionaries arrived at my father’s jewelry store looking to replace a tie clip one of them had lost. While there, they heard someone playing the guitar. When they asked about it, my father invited them to come in and meet his friend.
During their conversation, my father and his friend asked the missionaries if they played guitar. One elder said he played a little. My father’s friend passed his guitar to him and asked him to play. He began to play some songs while his companion sang.
The missionaries’ simple search for a tie clip led to my family’s introduction to the gospel of Jesus Christ. We became good friends with the missionaries and began listening to the lessons. The gospel seed was planted, and it began to grow, first in my mother, Elsa, and my sisters, Ana and Stella, and then in me.
Since that day, a love for missionary work has grown in my family. I served a mission, my sons have served missions, and now our grandchildren are beginning to prepare for and serve missions, creating a third generation of missionaries.
It is not always easy to be a missionary. It takes preparation before a young man or woman is ready to go to the mission field. This is where parents, family, and Church leaders can be good examples and work as a team to prepare youth at an early age.
One way to help them prepare is to share practical skills with them. Skills such as saving money, washing and ironing clothes, sewing, shining shoes, cooking, talking to others, and serving others will help them on their missions. Participation in seminary and institute also helps in that preparation and complements what they learn at home and in their quorums and classes.
Our support should continue while they are on their missions. It is beautiful to hear the wonderful experiences our missionaries have almost daily. We can also be a part of those experiences by reaching out to those they teach. For example, the mother of one of the missionaries who taught our family contacted my mother and wrote to her for many years, helping my mother stay on the covenant path.
As we help future missionaries prepare, we should remember that missionary work is much more than a tradition in the Church—it is an invitation and command from the Lord (see Matthew 28:19). In the beginning, Adam and Eve were taught the gospel. They then taught the gospel to their children (see Moses 5:6–12). “And thus the Gospel began to be preached, from the beginning, being declared by holy angels sent forth from the presence of God” (Moses 5:58).
This preaching continues now with an army of more than 71,000 missionaries. But we need more, many more, on the front lines—an army of missionaries and members.
While on my mission, I became accustomed to missionary work and began thinking more deeply about our message. I had always felt that the gospel was true, but I had a strong desire to know that it was true. I prayed, fasted, studied, worked, and then waited for an answer.
During a lesson one day, I shared Joseph Smith’s account of the First Vision:
“I saw a pillar of light exactly over my head, above the brightness of the sun, which descended gradually until it fell upon me. …
“When the light rested upon me I saw two Personages, whose brightness and glory defy all description, standing above me in the air. One of them spake unto me, calling me by name and said, pointing to the other—This is My Beloved Son. Hear Him!” (Joseph Smith—History 1:16–17).
In that moment, I could feel the Holy Ghost confirm to me that what I was teaching was true. The Prophet Joseph Smith had indeed seen the Father and the Son, and the Book of Mormon is the word of God and, with the Bible, testifies of our Savior. What peace this brought to my soul. Even decades later, it still warms my heart.
My mission was like obtaining a spiritual master’s degree. What young men and young women learn on a mission will bless their lives forever. Among many things, they learn:
How to study, pray, teach, and apply gospel principles daily.
How to live with a companion 24 hours a day.
How to take care of their health.
How to plan.
How to improve leadership skills.
How to properly relate to other people.
How to seek, listen to, and be guided by the Holy Ghost.
Young men and young women who serve missions will be strengthened and prepared to face life’s challenges as they continue to apply what they learned while on their missions.
Our beloved prophet, President Russell M. Nelson, has taught:
“There has never been a time in the history of the world when knowledge of our Savior is more personally vital and relevant to every human soul. Imagine how quickly the devastating conflicts throughout the world—and those in our individual lives—would be resolved if we all chose to follow Jesus Christ and heed His teachings.”
Today is the day for us to show character and courage and to share the gospel of Jesus Christ. Today is the day for our young people to prepare to serve in the Lord’s battalion on a teaching or service mission. The world needs you! There are knees to strengthen, hands to raise, and truth to preach (see Doctrine and Covenants 81:5).
May the following invitation from the Lord move us to action and to raise the banner of truth with power:
“Behold, I say unto you that it is my will that you should go forth …
“Lifting up your voices as with the sound of a trump, proclaiming the truth according to the revelations and commandments which I have given you.
“And thus, if ye are faithful ye shall be … crowned with honor, and glory, and immortality, and eternal life” (Doctrine and Covenants 75:3–5).

One day, my grandchildren, Seth, Cole, and Paige, were visiting me. Paige and I were playing a game in our downstairs family room. Seth and Cole were upstairs in the living room, playing “cars.” They were taking turns to see whose car could go the fastest and farthest.
I didn’t actually know what they were doing until Seth came downstairs and said, “Grandma, you need to come upstairs for a few minutes.”
I went upstairs, and he pointed to my favorite porcelain figurine of two boys playing marbles. “Grandma,” he said, “my car accidentally hit the figurine and broke the head off the boy.”
I was pretty upset, and he knew it. But I said, “Maybe my superglue will fix it.” We got it out, and I was able to very carefully mend the figurine. I didn’t tell Seth how proud I was of him for admitting what he had done, because I was still upset. Both boys know that they shouldn’t play cars in the living room!
The next day, after Seth had gone back home to Idaho (I live in Logan, Utah), I started to think about how much courage it must have taken him to choose the right and tell me the truth about the broken boy.
I wrote him a letter right away and told him so, and that I was proud of him. He could have blamed it on Cole, or he could have never told me at all. I also told him how glad I was that only a porcelain figurine had been broken and not his testimony of choosing the right.

Because of that example from my father, years later I was able to make a similar decision. I had just been hired by a consulting company, and they flew six of us employees from the Philippines to Sydney, Australia, to join with 400 managers from all over the world for training. We flew first class. A limousine picked us up at the airport and whisked us away to a five-star hotel, where each room had a big basket of goodies. The company wanted to show us that this was a good company to work for, and it wanted its new hires to stay.
After the first day of meetings, we had a gala dinner, a formal affair. We sat about 12 to a table, each with 10 managers and 2 managing partners who were to be our role models in the company. They told us stories about how they started in the company and grew in their careers with it. They told us of multimillion dollar deals they had closed, important businesspeople they had worked with, and major projects they had directed. I heard the names of Fortune 500 CEOs mentioned frequently and was in awe of these men because of the work they did.
We were all feeling great about our opportunities until one of the people at the table asked, “How does your wife handle all of your traveling? You’re constantly gone.” And one of the partners answered, “I was just divorced two years ago.” And the other partner at our table said, “I’ve been divorced for five years.”
I remember my thoughts: “These are not the men I want to be. I don’t think I want to work for this company because I don’t care much about worldly accomplishments if my family is in disarray.” The example of my father made it easy for me to decide to put my family first, and I found another job that allowed me to do so.

I have never had any reason to doubt those who talk of miraculous manifestations about the Book of Mormon. Those things have just never happened to me. In my younger years I used to wonder if there were something wrong with me, because when I prayed about the book nothing noticeable happened. I suppose the real reason nothing ever happened is that I have always had faith in the Book of Mormon and simply felt that when I understood all there was to understand about it all the questions that other people ask about it would be answered and the book would still remain valid.
As a result, I cannot say, as so many are able to do, that when I arose from praying about the book I had a burning that said, “That book is true.” I accept that fact, and I have to think there are a lot of us in the Church who are in a situation similar to mine. But what I would like to emphasize here is that even without a spectacular spiritual manifestation to tell me the Book of Mormon is true, I have spent a good deal of time throughout my life studying it and its coming forth and the various evidences that exist. I cannot claim to have pondered all the questions that disturb some people, but I have a simple understanding that when we know everything there is to know about the book it will still stand firm as the anchor to our faith that it has always been for me. I suppose what I am saying is that even without a spectacular witness, it still blesses me and my family greatly.
Let me give some examples of how it has blessed me.
1) When I went on my mission to Switzerland in 1950, I had studied the German language in both high school and university for a total of three years. I thought I was well prepared to be a missionary, even though at that time I had not read all of the Book of Mormon. But when I heard the everyday language of the Swiss people and their dialect forms, I was overwhelmed. It became very difficult to apply what I had learned. My companion and I read aloud to each other for an hour each morning from the Max Zimmer German translation of the Book of Mormon, which was written in the old German script. It was difficult at first, but through that reading of the Book of Mormon in German, the rhythm and flow of the language came easier for me and I was soon able to better communicate with the people.
That early morning reading also helped me through the Isaiah chapters of Second Nephi, which can be difficult to understand. In the process, I was introduced to the intriguing and beautiful poetry of Isaiah, to the vision he had of the whole history of man, and to his strong concern for the poor and the widows. It began a life-long study of the whole book of Isaiah, which has been a blessing at many times of spiritual need or of spiritual high points. That reading also opened up to me the way the prophets have of placing things of our life into a perspective that gives them their true meaning in eternity. These openings and beginnings have continued to enrich my understanding of the gospel, of the plan of salvation, of my values and goals, of the meaning of my own life. This all began with that hour my companion and I spent together reading the Book of Mormon to each other in the early mornings in an attic room in Bern, Switzerland. It was not just the language, but also the beginnings of an understanding of the beauty and importance of all scripture that came to me through that experience.
2) At Brigham Young University a few years ago I attended a seminar to prepare faculty to teach the Book of Mormon classes for first year students. During that six-week period I read the Book of Mormon through twice, outlining and pondering meanings as I went, savoring especially beautiful passages and doctrines. That marked another step in my love for the book. I was able to get much closer to it and to pursue subjects and themes that attracted my interest. Again, I could not say that I had received any special manifestation or witness. That was not a part of my relation to the book. Rather I gained a heightened awareness of the beauty of its message and the importance of its warnings for people living in our time. This awareness was increased as I taught the Book of Mormon in the Gospel Doctrine class. I have come to identify with the problems that men like Alma and Mormon had and to understand their deep concerns for people like me. I have learned that many of the details that are objected to by critics of the book are of no importance when compared to the magnificent and intense love that Christ shows in the preservation of the book so that we could have it to help us.
3) We have read the scriptures often in my family—I would not claim to be as regular at this as we are encouraged to be, but probably more than half of the time we have spent together reading the scriptures has been spent reading the Book of Mormon. We have enjoyed those times together very much. The older children have fond memories of them. As five missionaries have gone out from our family, they have been prepared about the same as I had been prepared: They accepted the book as true even though they had not read all of it many times nor had had some dramatic witness concerning it. Yet even without spectacular spiritual experiences, the Book of Mormon is an anchor to our family, to our faith, to our whole way of life. It is the keystone of our religion and gives meaning to it. When I think of the significance of the Book of Mormon to us, I wonder if any manifestation could be more important than that.
The Holy Ghost is not always obvious or direct in His workings with us. But through small things happening over a lifetime he creates a foundation upon which we can build good and happy lives, lives that are productive and firm in the Kingdom of God on earth. The Book of Mormon is part of that foundation for me and its significance continues to increase for me. I am grateful to the Lord for its blessing.

In November 2000, President Hinckley spoke to youth in a Churchwide fireside (see “A Prophet’s Counsel and Prayer for Youth,” Liahona, April 2001, 30–41). Have you young adults studied his message and identified things you need to avoid or do differently? I know a 17-year-old who just prior to the prophet’s talk had pierced her ears a second time.

She came home from the fireside, took off the second set of earrings, and said to her parents, “If President Hinckley says we should wear only one set of earrings, that’s good enough for me.”

Wearing two pairs of earrings may or may not have eternal consequences for this young woman, but her willingness to obey the prophet will. And if she will obey him now, on something relatively simple, how much easier it will be to follow him when greater issues are at stake.

Susan, baptized into the Church at age 28, had always lived the law of chastity. “My parents had integrity and expected me to have high moral standards, to be honest and chaste, so I just did it,” says Susan, who was raised in the midwestern United States. “Now I realize I was responding to the light of Christ. I never dated a Latter-day Saint until I met Tom. When I heard the gospel, I was glad I had never given in to sexual temptation. Later, Tom and I were married in the Salt Lake Temple. One year later our baby daughter died at birth. We were devastated but grateful we had been worthy to be sealed in the temple when we were first married. Knowing that our baby was born in the covenant brought us understanding and peace.”
Susan and Tom still live in the Midwest after 24 years of marriage and five children. “Several of our friends and cousins have divorced,” says Tom. “We have had our share of financial and family challenges, yet we both want to be true to our temple covenants, so we just work things out.”

I understand what it feels like not to feel peace. When I was ten years old my father died. Everyone told me that Heavenly Father would comfort me, but for the first few months I felt only pain and anger, not comfort.
One night, in the midst of all this hurt, I had a dream about my father which helped me to understand what had happened and to feel at peace with myself. I know that my dad is doing a great work helping people on the other side. I also know that you must look deep within yourself to find true peace in order to live a happy and peaceful life.
Bente Heiselt, 16Powell, Ohio

Brother Michael Kagle took a convoy of trucks loaded with equipment from his own company to Mississippi. Many employees, who are not of our faith, volunteered to go with him every weekend to give assistance in the storm-stricken areas. Walkie-talkies were used for communication along the way. Mike’s high priests group leader, while driving along with them in his pickup truck, said he had white knuckles from driving so fast. Trying to slow the convoy down, he got on the walkie-talkie and said, “Gentlemen, do you realize we are going 80 miles per hour?” One of the truck drivers came on and said, “Well, you have to understand that’s all these big trucks will do. We can’t go any faster.” Hundreds of letters of gratitude have been received. One woman, a nurse from Mississippi, wrote: “I was speechless. Had God answered my prayers so quickly? Tears immediately began to roll down my cheeks as men in hard hats and boots, with chain saws of all shapes and sizes, appeared out of the debris. It was absolutely, unequivocally, one of the most supreme sacrifices that has ever happened to me personally.”

Another example was with the young women. When each young woman reached her sixteenth birthday, together we reviewed her thoughts and concerns about dating. Then we looked at her eternal goals and encouraged her to discuss them with her parents and to remember them on her dates. As the years have gone by, a number of young women have told me how much it helped to remember their “sweet sixteen bishop’s interview” and the commitments they made to themselves and the Lord for achieving eternal goals.

When I was a Mia Maid, I noticed a less-active girl in the same class as I was. I sometimes saw her at school in the hallways, at Mutual activities, church, and even at girls’ camp. It seemed no matter how often I would see her, she looked unhappy. I knelt down one night and prayed for the strength to somehow help her.

I remembered that I had once been in the same phase. I would smile with those closest to me, but on my way down the halls of the high school, I would be unaware of the frown on my face. One day a girl in school, who was walking past me, said, “Hi, Sara!” This made all the difference. Now I could greet people in the same manner and felt the desire to always speak to the girl who had helped me. Pondering this gave me a sudden thought. What if I said a pleasant word to the girl in Mia Maids?
The next day, I told myself I would greet her with a friendly “Hello!” But something inside held me back. So I passed her by and said nothing. As the days stretched on, the desire to help her increased. I knew I had to say something to her, and I wanted to do it soon.
I prayed several times in the early morning to gain the courage I needed. As I saw her walking down the hallway one day, I knew I had to act fast! I was afraid if I didn’t say something now, I would not be able to later. With a turn of my head, I faced her and said, “Hi!”
The instant results surprised me. Her face immediately lit up like a candle. I decided that from then on, I would make an honest effort to say kind words to her. Months went by, and I found she became one of my best friends.
I know that Heavenly Father was sending me a message the day I got the courage to go up and say “Hi!” We need to reach out to others and forget ourselves. We can pause for a moment to offer a kind word. We can ask, “How can I help someone smile today?” Heavenly Father will help. Don’t be afraid to ask. He will guide you and direct you in the path you should go.

Dinah sat on the rug, excited for story time. It was her favorite part of the day.
She looked across the rug and saw a classmate named Felicity waving to her.
“Come here!” Felicity said.
Dinah scooted across the rug. “What’s up?”
“Your hair is different than mine,” said Felicity. “Why does your hair look like that?” She touched Dinah’s braids and giggled.
“My mom helped me do it,” Dinah said. She loved the color of her hair and how it felt under her fingers. She loved the neat rows of cute little plastic hair clips.
“Also, I want to see something,” Felicity said. “Show me your arm.”
Dinah held out her arm. “Well, what?” she asked as Felicity moved her own arm next to Dinah’s.
“Your arms are so brown!” said Felicity.
“Oh,” said Dinah, scooting back to the other side of the rug. Suddenly she couldn’t wait for the day to end.
At home, Dinah didn’t say much at dinner. When it was cleanup time, her sister, Aly, grabbed a towel to dry dishes and Dinah picked up the broom.
Mom started singing. Mom loved to sing while they cleaned.
“This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine …”
Dinah smiled a little. She hummed and sang along as she swept: “Let it shine, let it shine …”
The song ended. “My turn!” Aly said. She started a new song. Dinah tried to harmonize like Aly and Mom did, but it sounded flat. Like a boring gray color. Everyone burst out laughing.
“That was funny!” said Dinah. “Let me try again.”
Aly started the song again, and Dinah closed her eyes and joined in. This time, the different notes started to blend, like yellow and blue mixing into a bright green.
They sang almost the whole time they cleaned. When they were finishing, Dinah remembered what happened at school. She still felt uncomfortable about it.
“Mom, do you ever think about how people look different?” Dinah asked. “How everyone has different hair and skin and eyes?”
“Hmm, yes, I know what you mean,” said Mom. “Did something happen that made you think about that?”
Dinah told Mom about what Felicity said. “I felt weird. I didn’t like it. Why did she say that?”
“It sounds like Felicity was curious about you,” Mom said. “Everyone has their own unique skin color. And hair and eyes too. We’re all Heavenly Father’s children, and there’s no right or wrong way to look. But sometimes people need to get used to the beauty of different colors.”
“All peoples’ colors are beautiful?” Dinah asked.
“Definitely. Everyone’s color shows something special about their family and their history. The way you act represents our family to others. And who do we always say we follow in our family? Jesus Christ, right? So you also represent the Savior.”
Dinah nodded as Mom pulled her into a hug. Then she pulled Aly into the hug too.
“We can always feel good about who we are—especially when we’re following Jesus Christ,” she said quietly.
Dinah’s upset feelings began to settle down.
“Now,” Mom said with a smile, “time to get ready for bed. And then—dessert!”
“Yay!” Aly shrieked. “It’s gonna be pie, I just know it!” She zoomed upstairs.
Dinah followed Aly. She felt much better after talking with Mom. Her skin color was another part of who she was, like her family and her testimony were. She would keep being kind and set a good example at school. With God on her side, it would be a piece of cake.
Or even better, a piece of pie!

When Brigham was a youngster, all his friends wore hats, whether they were working, playing, fishing, or going to church. Brigham also wanted a hat, but he knew that his family had no money for one.
So Brigham learned how to braid straw and make his own hats! He wore his homemade hats during the summer when it was hot.
When it got colder, he wore a warmer hat that his sisters made for him. They called it a “Jo Jackson cap.”

They also enjoy playing music together. Naomi plays the drums, and Natascha plays the fife. They practice playing musical instruments with bands of children, or cliquen, all year long and then perform in February. That’s when Swiss people celebrate carnival for three days, symbolically scaring away winter and welcoming spring. Natascha and Naomi wear costumes and parade through the streets of Basel playing their music.